


In black and white

by Aruthla



Series: Time goes by [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: !!! Trigger warning for Day 29 !!!, Inktober 2019, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-09 07:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aruthla/pseuds/Aruthla
Summary: Short stories based on the prompt of Inktober 2019 for Námo/Fëanor.





	1. Day 1 : Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).

Slowly, he woke up, letting the sun's rays rain on his face. For a moment he stared at the window without really seeing it. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, observing the detail on the curtains that let in thin rays of light. He was brought back to the present moment by a heat ball that pressed against his stomach. Slightly raising his head, he discovered Cundo, rolling in a ball on the blanket. Feeling movement, he raised his head and his ebony gaze crossed Fëanor's emerald gaze. Graciously, Cundo got up from his place and came to rub against Fëanor's face, who let go a little laughter at the cat-maia. As he was returning to the charge, Fëanor pulled his hands off the sheets and grabbed Cundo. That's when he saw it.

A simple silver ring around his middle finger. In spite of himself, he turned scarlet under Cundo's amused gaze.


	2. Day 2 : Mindless

Námo loved watching Fëanor work. The way his mind focused on his project fascinated Námo. Sometimes his body had trouble following his thoughts and this was seen in the way he grabbed objects with a frown before taking another one. When Fëanor was caught up in a project, he concentrated only on it and totally blocked the world around him. Whether it was day or night, whether he was hungry or not and whether he was tired or not, nothing could stop him when his mind was taken by something. And that was what Námo liked most about Fëanor: his inattention.

Because Fëanor could be so concentrated, that when he went to get a tool or paper, he didn't care where he walked. And more than once, Námo prevented him from taking a door or falling into the lake that was practically all around his house.

Now he wonders how long it will take Fëanor to notice the ring on his middle finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	3. Day 3 : Bait

“Fëanor~ !”

Slowly, Fëanor turned around, praying for hallucinating Irmo's voice. Unfortunately for him, the Vala of Dreams was really behind him, his sandy hair moving in an imaginary wind. In spite of himself, a shiver of fear ran through Fëanor's body, not appreciating Irmo's smile as he continued to approach him, blocking him against a wall.

"Lo-lord Irmo... What can I do for you?" Asked Fëanor, praying that the Vala would quickly leave him alone.

"What can you do for me, huh~?" Irmo repeated mischievously, gently moving his lips closer to Fëanor's, who was definitely panicked.

Before Irmo could kiss him, he found himself thrown to the side.

"Is everything all right, Fëanor?" Námo asked as he emerged from the shadows, a pile of books under his arm.

As he approached Fëanor, one arm grabbed him and began to pull him out. Turning his head, he saw Nienna, her aura shining with amusement but also with reprimand.

"Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for your help Fëanor~" said Irmo as he got up and gave him the book that his brother had thrown away.

"You're... welcome?" Fëanor replied, not understanding what had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	4. Day 4 : Freeze

Námo was constantly cold. It wasn't a cold like Manwë's, which brought a childish joy. No, his own cold was the same as the Helcaraxë, a dangerous and deadly cold. It was a cold imposed by Morgoth and whose scars he would bear until the end. Never again could he see the beauty of Ëa, his eyes being burned by the ice the day the Lamps were broken. Even Estë had been unable to heal his wounds, leaving him prey to the ice picks that kept tormenting him.

Not a day passed without the cold tormenting him, torturing him slowly as fragments of visions of the times to come filled his dreams. The images always seemed distorted, deformed, as if they were reflected by a broken mirror.

Seeing the fëar had become a suffering for him, their light reflecting on the ice crystals remaining in his eyes, burning him from the inside. He had believed that this torture would last until Dagor Dagorath. And perhaps this would have been the case, if Fëanor had remained alive.

But Fëanor had died under Gothmog and his followers, when it shouldn't have happened and because of this event, the light of his fëa illuminated the Halls with a light of unparalleled purity, while it was struggling against the darkness.

And this flame released him from Morgoth's poison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	5. Day 5 : Build

Námo couldn't create. It might have seemed strange to a being who had sung the creation of the world, except that Námo hadn' t sung at the Ainulindalë. He was one of the few Ainur to have remained silent, unable to contribute anything to Eru's vision since his role wasn't included in it. And Námo had accepted this fact. But that didn't mean he didn't resent it.

Seeing the countless creations of the other Valar had filled him with jealousy, although he didn't know the name of this feeling at the age of the Lamps. And that same feeling had almost pushed him into Morgoth's arms.

In the hope of being able to get him to join his camp, Morgoth had given him an incredibly precious gift: transformation. _If you cannot create, then transform what already exists_, Morgoth told him when he gave him this gift. What an irony! After discovering his true intentions and paying the price, Námo used this gift to allow the dead elves to return, changing their fëar into hröa, and allow them to go back to war against Morgoth.

And today, he was using this gift on Winyatelperion leaves and a branch of Winyalaurelin for the one and only object he would create.

After all, his flame deserved only the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	6. Day 6 : Husky

Fëanor loved listening to Námo speak. It might sound strange to say, especially since Námo's voice wasn't as melodious as his siblings. On the contrary, his voice was like a gearbox rusty to the point of no longer being able to turn. Instead, Námo spoke by projecting his thoughts, giving the illusion of a monotonous and lifeless voice. That was why Fëanor had long believed that Námo was incapable of feeling anything. He had finally discovered that Námo always separated his emotions from his thoughts in order to remain as fair as possible in his judgments. However, he only did this at gatherings in Máhanaxar and in the presence of those he didn't consider as friends.

Fëanor felt strangely honored the day he first heard Námo's true voice. And even more so when he learned that he was the only elf to have this privilege.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	7. Day 7 : Enchanted

Fëanor kept observing the ring around his middle finger. For a second-rate blacksmith or jeweller, his ring could have seemed simple, even amateur. But Fëanor wasn't a second-rate blacksmith, no matter how much the spiteful tongues were shouting it from the rooftops. He could feel that behind his simplistic appearance, there was something infinitely precious behind it.

Fëanor vaguely wondered whether Námo had asked Yvanna for permission, before remembering that this two didn't get along at all, and that it was therefore very likely that Námo had dispensed with her permission.

At worst, if she decides to get angry, Fëanor could always remind her of the cost of her two trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	8. Day 8 : Frail

Fëanor wasn't someone who could be considered fragile. The loss of his mother as a child and the treacherous words that followed him had forced him to prepare for the worst and make him suspicious of others, who, behind their sympathetic smile spitting out their venom as soon as his back was turned. Showing the slightest sign of weakness was like signing his death, the vultures coming to strip him of everything under the pretext of helping him.

Yet, paradoxical as it may seem, this same strength was his weakness.

Because Fëanor couldn't trust other anymore, because calling for help was the equivalent of being stabbed in the back, Fëanor had isolated himself from the others and had only a very small circle of people who helped him. Unfortunately, none of them could really help him, because none of them understood the weight that weighed his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	9. Day 9 : Swing

There was a time when Fëanor never stopped oscillating between two states. The first state was the one that everyone knew about him. The genius who had no limits, constantly creating, improving his creations and those of others. The one who had no rival and whose arrogance knew no limits.

The second state... the second state was only known to three people. Two were Valar and the last one was an elf. This Fëanor was unknown to others, even his own children. It was a Fëanor crushed by the weight of the remorse, spending hours staring at the void. There was a time when his actions had been more radical and his body kept the traces of them.

Over time, this Fëanor gradually ceased to appear, but sometimes it reappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	10. Day 10 : Pattern

Námo was like a well-oiled machine, following a logical sequence of action to move forward through time. He would get up at the same time, leave for the Halls and come back in the evening, when Isil was high in the sky, to do exactly the same thing the next day.

Irmo had tried to make a bit of a change, but Námo could be extremely stubborn when he wanted to.

But obviously, he was not sufficiently so in front of Fëanor, who took great offence at the Vala's way of life and didn't hesitate to let him know, under the amused gaze of Námo who let him do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	11. Day 11 : Snow

Fëanor stood under the snowflakes, leaving them decorated his black hair with thousands of ephemeral stars. He could feel the cold slowly creeping into him. But Fëanor doesn't want to go home.

Closing his eyes, he threw his head back, enjoying the cold contact of the snow on his skin. Slowly, his clothes got wet, sticking to his skin and drawing shivers to his body.

All of these were new sensations for Fëanor, whose skin had always seemed like fire to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	12. Day 12 : Dragon

For a long time, Fëanor believed that Námo was like a cat.

After managing to get him out of his routine, Fëanor often found himself with Námo's head on his lap. He quickly discovered that only he was entitled to this treatment, Irmo having once tried to take Námo's place, before being brutally thrown into the water by the latter, who placed his head on Fëanor's lap as if nothing had happened.

Moreover, with Irmo, Námo was as affectionate as a cat. In other words, some days he could accept a hug from his brother and the next day he would completely ignore him.

But Fëanor was wrong.

Námo was a dragon who jealously guarded his treasure and Morgoth learned it at his own expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	13. Day 13 : Ash

Fëanor liked to walk in the woods around the palace. He knew that Atto didn't want him to walk alone, but Fëanor was bored.

The other children didn't understand what he was saying and preferred to play silly games, while the adults said he was too young to understand what they were talking about.

So rather than waste time with one of the two groups, he preferred to go into the woods. Especially since in the woods, there was his favorite tree: a big and beautiful ash tree!

Fëanor had never seen such a large tree (he didn't count the two Trees, they were different from the other trees) and he always had the impression that ammë was with him when he sat on his roots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	14. Day 14 : Overgrown

Námo was constantly caught up in visions.

Since his world was reduced to darkness, not a day went by without him seeing what was going to happen. He constantly saw the vain efforts of others to try to create what Morgoth had destroyed (a name that would not come immediately, but that he found very appropriate).

Námo hated not having any control over his visions, but that was his punishment for almost failing to his role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	15. Day 15 : Legend

As Time passes, taking with it the memories of the past, Men will only keep fragments of ancient histories from past times.

Because their time only flows in one direction, Men will forget the origin of their legends and murmur silently among themselves that their Time is like that because Death jealously guards Life for himself, preventing Life from creating a being that could share his time with him.

But Men had forgotten where their legends came from. They had forgotten that Life had asked Death to hide him from everyone, to keep him as a precious bird abused and afraid to suffer again. Men had forgotten that Life was killed by Evil and that Death saved him.

Men had forgotten, but not Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	16. Day 16 : Wild

Fëanor loved to travel, to discover new places. It was a passion he had passed on to his children, especially Celegorm, Amrod and Amras. Crossing Aman and seeing its thousand ever-changing landscapes fascinated Fëanor, who could have travelled to one place a week earlier, and rediscovered it completely changed the next.

He loved the freedom his travels offered him, far from everyone.

But what he loved most of all, was to return where Námo was and just enjoy his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	17. Day 17 : Ornament

There was a time when Fëanor didn't like to wear jewellery.

The necklaces gave him the impression of being strangled, the bracelets of obstructing him and the rings of being a possession, an object to be paraded in front of everyone's eyes. He also didn't like earrings either, as he found their weight too unpleasant.

However, he loved creating jewellery, whether for Nerdanel or his sons. Even Aredhel and Fingon had received jewellery from him, to the great incomprehension of all, except his sons and their two cousins.

After returning, his love for jewellery design had almost disappeared, but Fëanor no longer dared to create anything, for fear of starting a tragedy again. And anyway, he wasn't sure he would have been allowed in a forge.

However, he still hated wearing jewellery as much as ever, except for a simple silver ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	18. Day 18 : Misift

Námo didn't like to talk. He found it challenging and tiring. Listening to others also made him tired. Trying to understand what they really wanted always gave him a migraine. He much preferred the silence of his Halls, where no fëa dared to come disturbed him.

When Irmo comes to visit him, he talks, talks and talks and Námo lets him do it because Irmo will never lie to him.

Later, the First-Born arrived and Námo knows that this Moment is approaching.

Everything is going exactly as Eru showed him, except for Fëanor's death. He can hear his maiar wondering about this change and like them, Námo is curious. Perhaps he will try to talk to him when his punishment is over?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	19. Day 19 : Sling

“A-atto ?”

"Yes Tyelko?" Fëanor replied absently without letting go of his work.

"Can... can you help me?"

"Of - Eru! What happened to you?!" Fëanor exclaimed when he saw the strange angle of his son's arm.

"A bad... fall?" Tyelkormo replied, leaving his father directing him to a stool and examining his arm.

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Uh..."

"Fëanor! Have you seen Tyelkormo?"

When Fëanor heard his wife, he looked at his son with an eyebrow raised. The latter quickly shook his head, a silent plea in his eyes.

"He helps me in the forge, Nerdanel!"

"Really?" She asked with a doubtful tone, used to her husband lying to her to cover their children, while entering her husband's workshop, "Eru! What happened to you, Tyelko?"

"He climbed on a wobbly stool to get some of the equipment I had asked him for, but he slipped and dislocated his shoulder and wrist. A week with the arm in a sling and everything will be like new," explained Fëanor.

"So he didn't do that to himself by trying to jump into the tree in front of his window to go outside when I told him no?"

"It's strangely specific to Nerdanel," replied Fëanor.

Looking at her son and husband, Nerdanel sighed in front of her son's amazed look at his father, who had a fine smile of amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	20. Day 20 : Tread

Námo observed the dark immensity that surrounded him. No matter where his gaze landed, he could only see the darkness of the Void, spinning slowly. Námo found it fascinating to see the space slowly changing.

Everything was so different from the Timeless Halls, where everything was lit by the Imperishable Flame whose light came from the depths of the Abyss.

Námo could understand why so many others had disappeared into the Void after their creation by Eru. Everything was silent and peaceful, so different from the thousand songs that resounded in the Timeless Halls. Slowly, he began to doze off.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and found himself face-to-face with a wide open mouth, his sharp teeth shining with a deadly glow and a supernatural whiteness in the middle of the darkness. Nearly avoiding the huge mouth floating in the Void, Námo quickly left the area.

For a long time, he wandered into the Void. He could feel that the creature was looking for him, stalking him to fill his polyphagous stomach... and suddenly his presence disappeared.

"Is your curiosity satisfied, Námo?"

Námo looked at Eru, before sitting on his lap and falling asleep slowly, while Eru was playing with his hair while laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	21. Day 21 : Treasure

As a child, Fëanor had a small chest, a gift from his father, which he had filled with "treasure". They were small stones that he found pretty, feathers with unique colours and patterns, flowers reminding him of a vague memory of his mother.

Everything inside was something he cherished, hiding them jealously from the rest of the world.

If he could, he would have put his children inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	22. Day 22 : Ghost

Námo was walking in Lórien's Gardens, his hair, usually hidden under his hood, dancing freely in the wind while Tilion was leading his boat high in the sky.

It was one of those rare nights where Námo couldn't sleep and his brother's sands couldn't put him to sleep. It was one of those nights where the memory of a plea drowned in his open throat, scarlet tears fell from his broken eyes and the murmur of a loving lie echoed in his ear.

It was one of those nights when the outline of a hand so _cold_ (so _hot_), dancing on his skin so _hot_ (so _cold_) haunted him, where broken promises had been formulated in the greatest secrecy and had been forgotten, except by him.

It was one of those nights where Námo didn't know if he was alive or dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	23. Day 23 : Ancient

Námo could feel the fëar of all beings living on Ëa, whether they were animals, plants, Men, Quendi or other Ainur. Whether they were on the ground or underground, in the air or in the water, whether they had a hröa, a fana or neither, Námo could feel them.

The fëar of animals and plants always disappeared, meaning that two could never exist through Time.

The one of Men was unique, reverting back to being blank of all lived when they left the circles of this world, with some traces that survived from time to time, allowing them sometimes to find friends or loved ones when they walked again on Ëa.

The Quendi were still different, keeping all their memories and returning without their injuries, whether physical or psychological.

Among the Ainur, only maiar had lost their lives and only their fana were damaged, never their Fëar.

And then there was Fëanor, whose fëa burned with a thousand fires and which seemed so ancient, as ancient as Eru and Námo cannot help but wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	24. Day 24 : Dizzy

His head was spinning. His lungs were on fire. His body was burning. His nerves were lava. He couldn't remember where he was. All he cared about was Námo's lips on his own, slowly devouring him.

Each of his moans was gulped down by Námo, whose tongue kept teasing his own. Námo's hands drove him insane, tearing shivers of pleasure from his body without him knowing what their next victims would be, his eyes being blindfolded as well as his hands, leaving him helpless in the face of the flood of pleasure Námo was offering him.

All he could do was to accept this sweet torment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	25. Day 25 : Tasty

His lips slipped along this milky skin, unable to resist the temptation to bite into it. Planting his teeth in the tender flesh, he feasted on the sweet moaning that flowed from between Fëanor's lips. Sucking the flesh, he enjoyed the shivers running through Fëanor's body.

Slowly, he resumed his journey, savoring the jolted skin under his lips. Attacking one of the flesh buds, he was fed with Fëanor's cry of surprise and pleasure.

Moving away to admire his work, he felt water coming to his mouth.

His chest, barely concealed by his dresses, rose and fell to the rhythm of his jerky breathing. His long black hair formed a halo around his head, which was bent to the side, showing the marks that were beginning to bloom in his exposed neck. Lost in his hair, his hands clung to the bond that had eventually loosened. And to close the picture, the scarlet face of Fëanor, whose eyes were still hidden under the blindfold. But if he could see them, he was sure he would only see an abyss of desire. This simple idea made him hungry, horribly hungry.

Hungry, he abandoned all restraint and attacked this tasty delicacy that lay before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	26. Day 26 : Dark

Námo didn't see the world as the rest of the people of Eä. For him, everything was only shades of black, and where the fëar shone with a bright light.

He knew that he wasn't the only one in this case, his brother seeing the world in a myriad of whimsical colors than the others. Nienna had never said how she perceived the world, only that she was closer to Námo than Irmo.

But strangely, only Fëanor shone with color in their respective worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	27. Day 27 : Coat

Constantly warm, Fëanor had never felt the need to wear a coat in winter, only taking one on rainy days. He had never experienced the feeling of cold that others around him complained about, just as he had never experienced the childish joy of being able to feel the snow gently melt on his hands after making a snowman. He also ignored the refreshing sensation of rain on the skin.

He had never believed that he could have discovered these sensations one day, and yet his death had made this miracle possible.

But among all these sensations, his favorite was to be wrapped in a coat and then in Námo's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	28. Day 28 : Ride

Fëanor was struggling to keep his eyes open. He could feel his eyelids lowering against his will, while his head seemed heavier and heavier. Regularly, his eyes closed and reopened suddenly, just as he quickly straightening his head, which had dangerously approached the paper. Nevertheless, he kept his pen in hand, as his writing became increasingly illegible and ink stains appeared more and more.

Waking up again, he realized that he no longer had a feather in his hand and that a comforting warmth was on his shoulders. Through his blurred vision, he vaguely recognized Námo's cape, before having his eyes drawn by a silvery glow. At the same time, he found himself lifting.

"Another... 10 minutes..." he muttered, his hands clinging weakly to Námo's dresses.

"You'll negotiate that with Irmo," Námo replied softly, his voice a soft whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	29. Day 29 : Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **!!! Trigger warning !!! **
> 
> **!!! Self-harm due to depression and suicidal thoughts !!!**
> 
> **If this is an uncomfortable subject for you, don't read!**

He was looking at his arm. He didn't know how, but his sleeve had caught on to something and ripped. For a long time, he simply stood there, staring at the bandage around his arm, slowly stained itself with blood.

Delicately, he undid the bandage, revealing a marbled forearm with a number of scars of varying sizes. Continuing to stare at his wound, he gently palpated it. He watched his fingertips being covered with blood, while blood rushed out, slipping on his wrist.

He couldn't describe how he felt when he saw his blood flowing like that. Maybe it was curiosity? But anyway, he felt something. He wasn't broken. Pressing, first gently and then harder and harder, he watched his blood come out more and more abondantly.

As his blood flowed, he could feel his entrails twisting. His throat hurt, as if something was growing just as fast, suffocating him. He could feel something wet and hot slipping on his cheeks, as his vision became blurred.

Yet, a smile twisted Fëanor's face in the broken mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	30. Day 30 : Catch

Fëanor watched the rain calm down little by little, until it stopped completely. With a sigh of relief as the sky cleared, revealing its radiant blue, he left the cave he had found to take refuge and resumed his journey. He had wanted to take a short walk, but the weather had caught him off guard and he was stuck in the cave for almost two hours.

Going back the same way, Fëanor stopped from time to time to admire the reflection of the sun on the raindrops that decorated the forest. Suddenly, his attention was caught by a little noise, the source of which turned out to be a baby bird. Gently approaching, he took the little bird in his hands, making sure that he was fine while whispering words of comfort and appeasement in the language of feathers, language Celegorm had taught him. After making sure that everything was fine, Fëanor looked for the nest from which the bird came and eventually found it in a huge cherry tree. Blessing the many years spent helping Celegorm, Amrod and Amras to take care of the nest fall chicks, but also to sneak out, Fëanor began to climb the tree.

When he arrived at the nest, he delicately placed the chick, whose cries of joy attracted the parents who immediately arrived and began to cover him. He stayed with the family for a while, discussing the latest news from the forest. Finally, Fëanor finally saluted the birds and began to come down from the tree. Unfortunately, the rain had made the branches slippery.

Praying that the rain had softened the ground, Fëanor closed his eyes and waited for the impact, which never came. Instead, he felt two arms catching him. Opening his eyes, he discovered Námo.

"Ná-Námo?"

"You weren't coming home," he replied simply as he began to return to his home.

"The rain caught me off guard," explained Fëanor. "But what are you doing here? Weren't you in the Halls?"

"I promised you that."

"Huh?"

"That I'll always catch you."

This answer, completely unexpected, made Fëanor mute in embarrassment and went to hide his face in Námo's dresses, who kept him in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


	31. Day 31 : Ripe

Námo watched Fëanor grab a peach in the basket from a harvest that his brother had just made in the Gardens. He watched him sink his teeth into the flesh of the fruit. Immediately, juice escaped from the peach and Námo followed with his eyes the thin trickle flowed along Fëanor's chin, who tried to stop the liquid with his hands. He observed how Fëanor's tongue slipped on his fingers, collecting the nectar that kept slipping on his hands.

Delicately, Námo took the hand still holding the peach and moved it away from Fëanor. The latter turned to him with astonishment, ready to ask him why he was doing this. No words crossed his lips, becoming prisoners of Námo's, who took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Námo vaguely felt the amused presence of his brother, Maedhros, Caranthir and the twins, the outraged presence of Fëanor's other sons and Aredhel who held her cry of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be found on [tumblr](http://aruthla.tumblr.com/).


End file.
